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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540281">What Matters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingFicariously/pseuds/WritingFicariously'>WritingFicariously</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Art of Writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Character Death, Death, F/M, Gen, Inspired by Fanart, What-If</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:46:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,670</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28540281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingFicariously/pseuds/WritingFicariously</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco watches his aunt carve her blade into Granger’s flesh and wonders what really matters in the world created by a madman. Hint of Dramione. Major character death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Art of Writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Matters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This short piece was inspired by a gorgeous piece of fan art from Avendellart, which can be found here - https://avendell.tumblr.com/post/626719156885241856/dramione-au-what-if-draco-had-saved-hermione</p><p>Thanks to Christine for the pre-read and title help.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His heart is pounding a tattoo inside his chest as her screams echo in the vast room. He can feel his mother’s delicate fingers at his wrist, holding him in place while her sister carves lines into flesh. He swallows back the acrid taste of bile when the screams reach a feverish pitch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Granger turns her head toward him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her lips, cracked and dry, are frozen open. He stares at a spot on her cheek where dirt is streaked across her skin, disappearing into wild and matted hair. He wants to look away but he can’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Legilimens</em>,” he whispers, more of a breath of air than an actual word. His eyes lock onto hers and then he’s spiraling into her mind, where he’s caught in a tornado of thoughts and memories.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The slow turn of a wand as she quietly says, “Obliviate.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Laughter and joy as she spins across the floor, first in Krum’s arms as a young girl, then in Weasley’s as a young woman.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The click-clack of heels on marble floors as an unknown woman enters the Ministry with - <em>is that Runcorn?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears coursing down her face as Weasley shouts before disappearing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Comfort in the dim lighting of a single candle inside a tent, low music playing as Potter rocks her soothingly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scabior’s face appearing in front of her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The long walk up to his ancestral home.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he pulls out of her mind, he is trembling. He feels his mother’s grip tighten on his wrist, a silent question that only becomes clear when he glances at her from the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Malfoy.” It’s a soft sigh, a plea for help. “Please.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swallows, ignores the burn in his throat, the rock forming in his stomach. His lips part as an angry rush of air leaves his body. Pulling away from his mother, he takes a step toward his aunt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Toward Granger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Draco,” she says his given name this time, her voice cracking on the second syllable. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Behind him, he hears angry whispers, his father’s tone affronted and brash. Vaguely, he realizes his mother is attempting to calm his father down but he isn’t sure if it’s working.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t matter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nothing will matter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Stop.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco’s voice is seemingly loud, and the word is said harshly, commanding everyone’s attention. Bellatrix turns her head slowly, a spark in her eyes as she stares at her nephew.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did you say?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“STOP.” Without a second thought, he strides forward and grabs his aunt at her upper arm, pulling her up with a strength he didn’t know he had. “She knows nothing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except she does. He had seen in her thoughts the glint of the Sword of Gryffindor as it rested in Weasley’s hand when he returned to Potter and Granger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t matter, does it?” Bellatrix’s voice has cooled to any icy tone, one that usually sends fear racing through him, but she’s right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t matter anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With as much force as he can muster, he throws Bellatrix toward his parents just as Potter and Weasley come rushing into the room, wands out and yelling. The whizz of spells fly around the room but he ignores everything. Dropping to his knees, he places a hand on Granger’s face, his thumb brushing against the corner of her mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you need?” he asks her in a desperate tone. She stares with blank eyes. “Granger!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wand,” she croaks out. “Need. Healing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When her eyes flicker to her arm, Draco does the same, and reaches out without thinking. His fingers brush against the red letters and he says an apology when she whimpers. Her blood stains his fingers but he doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The blood, it doesn’t matter. It’s the same as his.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get away from her!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s Weasley’s voice that shouts at him and Draco watches as Bellatrix takes advantage of the redhead’s distraction to grab him, to hold her jagged knife to his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No one move,” she demands, her tone oddly crooning. It’s a tone that says she believes she’s won, a playful tone that churns his insides. “Well, well, look who we have here. Looks like Harry Potter has arrived after all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up,” Ron tries to say but the knife pushes harder into his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bellatrix cackles. “Do as Potter says, Draco. Get away from the <em>mudblood</em>. And call the Dark Lord.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stays where he is but shifts his gaze from Bellatrix to Potter, whose eyebrows draw in together as he returns Draco’s stare. Draco flickers his stare to the girl in front of him, still laying still, so still.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“CALL HIM!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lucius scoffs at his own son and steps forward. As he’s drawing his sleeve back, Narcissa somehow glides behind Bella and lowers herself to kneel next to her son.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No one notices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Take it,” Narcissa says as she slides her wand into Draco’s hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? Why?” He flicks his wrist and his own wand slides out of his sleeve.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Narcissa pushes the wand back up and presses her own into his left hand. “For her.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their eyes meet and it’s suddenly clear. He nods minutely and chants under his breath as he runs the tip of the wand over the letters set into Granger’s skin, hoping to relieve some of the pain. It’s when he reaches the “L” that he realizes an odd screeching sound is echoing in the room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the blink of an eye, he hears the crash of the chandelier, feels his mother pull him to his feet before helping pull Granger up from the floor to push her into his arms. He hears Potter’s voice call Hermione’s name, then his own. Weasley’s body collides with his as he rushes toward Potter; he tries to grab the girl but Draco pushes him aside, half carrying and half dragging her to the front of the room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s their old house elf who is in front of him, standingup to his aunt who yells about stealing a witch’s wand, her own wand. The elf snaps his fingers and Draco feels the pull at his center, a blend of apparition and using a Port Key.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Malfoy!” Potter calls to him and latches a hand onto his arm just as Granger blinks out of the stupor she’s been held under.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go!” he yells. He pushes Granger into Potter’s arms and throws his mother’s wand to her. It doesn’t feel right going with them, even though he knows staying means his death.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it doesn’t matter so long as she can get to safety.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t have a choice, though. Potter had been touching him when the elf was saving the trio of friends. He felt his body slip apart for apparition but looked into his home one final time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The crystals of the chandelier across the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His father, livid and glaring from where he sat on the floor. His hair in disarray around his shoulders as he shouted but Draco couldn’t hear the words.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mother, her face somehow conveying both sorrow and hope as she watched him disapparate. She, too, mouths words but he can clearly understand them - <em>I love you.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The still bodies of Snatchers laying beneath the chandelier pieces.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Bellatrix, a wild look in her eyes, as she pulls her arm back and pitches it forward.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In what seems like slow motion, Draco watches her silver knife curve over and over in the air. He feels magic grip him - or are those Granger’s hands, weak but insistent against his shirt?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He closes his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Salt and florals fill his nose when he opens his eyes again. The sound of crashing waves are interspersed with frantic shouts of familiar voices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Find something! Anything!” is said in a low voice laced with pain. “Hurry!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s... there’s noth—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He saved me! Find something!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his mouth, he tastes the metallic sharpness of blood. A hint of salt mixes in and he realizes he’s crying, the tears finding their way into his parted lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Granger.” His voice sounds odd, almost like a faraway echo. It hurts to talk, to breathe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shh, shh,” she shushes him. She comes into view, waves of hair falling over his face, and he feels the light touch of her hand on his neck, his cheek, fingers sliding into his hair. “You’ll be fine. <em>Fine!</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Granger,” he tries again but the pain in his chest deepens. He glances down and sees the familiar silver handle of his aunt’s blade protruding from his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It all makes sense now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Her voice lowers even more, hoarse from her screaming earlier. “Why did you stop her? Why did you help me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lifts his arm as best as he can from beneath her, his hand curling over her back. Her body is still wracked with tremors but she’s warm. And safe now. He tries to lift his right arm as well but pauses when the pain shoots through him. He can feel himself shaking and thinks he knows what’s coming. </span>
</p><p class="p4">“Malfoy. <em>Draco</em>,” she emphasizes his name.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because you matter, Granger,” he manages to say in halting words. “Because in this crazy world we’ve made, that the Dark Lord forced us into,<em> you matter.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lets out a deep breath and hears the rattling sound come from his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Potter staring awkwardly at him while Weasley looks lost. Next to them, the blonde girl - from Ravenclaw, he strangely remembers - is murmuring something he can’t hear while she waves her hands lightly in front of her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The pain in his body eases, even asGranger bends down, putting her weight against him. “Thank you,” she says. “Stay,” she continues. “Fight. I’ll help you. <em>We’ll</em> help you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Granger —“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please,” she begs. “Stay with me. Fight with us.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something other than pain blooms in his chest and spreads to his stomach. His hands drop. She lets out a sob, the sound disappearing into the crook of his neck, into the sand beneath them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hermione.”</span>
</p><p class="p4"> </p>
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